


Hypnotised

by TaylorVieiraa



Category: TharnType the Series (TV), เกลียดนักมาเป็นที่รักกันซะดีๆ | TharnType: The Series (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:48:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25380397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaylorVieiraa/pseuds/TaylorVieiraa
Summary: When Type's forced to leave his home and sunny paradise of Thule and move to the cold wet northern capital of Pohoja he can't help but to feel bitter. Leaving his entire life and everything he loves behind Type's convinced he'll never be happy again. Okay..., maybe thats a bit dramatic... Type know's he'll be fine eventually. Maybe he could even use this as a chance to reinvent himself... become the new and improved Type who doesn't scare everyone off with his perminent scowl. Who doesn't just spend all of his time in the training ring practicing with his beloved sword. Right...? Maybe...?Forget it. Type doesn't know who he's trying to kid, he knows he'll stay the same as he's always been. He'll just be a lot colder and constantly damp now. Type doesnt expect he'll ever like Pohoja, he doesn't expect he'll ever get used to being so far from the sea, he doesn't expect he'll ever find a friend that compare to Khom. Most of all Type doesnt expect for the handsome stranger he spent his last blissful night in Thule with to be Tharn Kirigun. Infamous Tharn Kirigun whose known for being the most eligible bachelor in the entire continent and who happens to be the 2nd Prince of the Northern continent.
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

I'm awful at sumamries and have no idea what I'm doing but I can't help wanting to write MewGulf as hot medieval Princes soooo here I am. Think Game of Thrones/ Merlin style universe with a lot less violence and no real magic. Inspired by my favourite Renly/Loras Fic "Golden" by JeanJacquesFrancois which despite being unfinished manages to draw me back to read at least once every year. The story will be nothing alike except Type being a sword crazy hard-mouthed brat (similar to Loras) and Tharn being the handsome soft spoken Prince (Renly hehe). Her writing is infinately better than mine could ever be so be sure to check it out if you like this kind of vibe!!

The title is inspired by the song Hypnotised by Years & Years.  
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GAoQQHK1umM

I espeically love the meaning behind the song.

"Hypnotised is about falling head over heels for somebody and it totally up-ends everything you thought you knew about yourself. It's about the initial stage of a relationship. I wanted to write about that feeling of being intoxicatrd in the romance of it all."

I'm really excited for this concept but it's my first time ever writing anything let alone a story sooo who knows how well this will go, I hope you enjoy anyway :)


	2. Chapter One

Type doesn’t know how he got himself into this situation. He’s supposed to be back home preparing for the big move tomorrow, but it was Khom’s birthday and that always meant drinking far too much wine and forgetting all their responsibilities for a night. Type was especially desperate to forget that tomorrow he’ll be forced to leave Thule and everything he’s ever known to move to the northern capital, Pohoja. So, he may have drank a little more than he was originally planning to, he figured if he can’t get drunk tonight, the last night he has with his friends, then when can he. He’s never been to Pohoja before but from what he’s heard from his mother’s many childhood stories he has no idea why anyone would willingly live there. Or more specifically why his mother would agree to move back after managing to escape the cold wet hell that is the capital all those years ago. She told him stories of the cold and the rain, of the winters that last longer than the summer with snow carpeting the ground for weeks at a time. Growing up, Type always thought seeing the snow would be fun, he wanted to feel the bitter cold and experience everything his mother described, but now that the reality of leaving Thule has set in he wants nothing less than to be forced into the cold and leaving his sun filled home behind. Worse than leaving his friends and the sun Type knows he’ll miss nothing more than the sea. His blue oasis, the one place he can go to forget everything and just be himself without fear or judgement. He’d spend hours soaking up the sun and swimming as a child so much so that everyone knew if you ever wanted to find Type the first place to look was always the beach. It was his place, his own little haven away from everything bothering him in the real world. Of course, once he started training to join the palace guard he had less time to spend with the sea but no matter how long he spent away, never more than a couple days, he’d always find himself back basking in its salty water eventually. Pohoja has no kohm, it has no sun and most importantly, Pohoja has no sea. Type doesn’t know how he’ll cope living in his own version of Hell, but he knows he can’t leave his mother and she has no choice but to make the move back to her childhood city. As the only handmaiden in the castle that can speak the northern tongue it came as no surprise when she was assigned to Princess Kina after the announcement of her engagement to the northern Prince Thorn. The marriage alliance is a crucial step forward in improving relations between the two continents after decades of hostility and tension, so everyone knows how important it is that the alliance goes as smoothly as possible. Especially his mother whose experienced first-hand how deep the scorn each continent felt towards one another went. His mother and father’s love wasn’t an easy one, a northern woman with a southern man was simply unheard of in their time. They had to fight to prove their love for one another everyday whilst facing sneers and remarks from the outside. Eventually things had slowly started to get better, people stared less and less, society began to accept his mother and by the time Type was a teenager they faced little discrimination anymore. At first glance you’d never know that Type had northern blood in him with his tanned skin and southern features, thanks to his Father’s genes, but of course once his peers first found out he mixed they had tried to mess with him, resorting to the same old racist retorts. Type’s harsh mouth and swift fists quickly put an end to any kind of foul play others tried towards him, not to mention being best friends with Kohm, the future King of Thule definitely saw to any bigotry directed towards him came to a swift end. As Type’s skill and rank within the palace guard rose so did the respect of the others until now where he’s respected and admired by all of his peers and community. Nevertheless, he knew his mother would never forget the discrimination she went through all those years ago and this opportunity of being part of the biggest alliance between the two continents was one she couldn’t back down from. And so, Type would be leaving the home that he loved tomorrow to go freeze in the north because he loved his mother more. 

“Hey, are you alright?” Type is brought out of his thoughts by a deep voice. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to” The stranger breathes into his ear, his strong hands roaming across the expanse of Type’s firm chest. Type has no clue how he ended up in one of the palace’s guest rooms with a man he doesn’t know. One minute he was drinking with Kohm and their friends when a handsome man arrives. Kohm introduces him as a visitor from the north or something, in all honesty Type has no idea where this man is from or how he ended up in his bedroom half naked pinned against the door as kisses are trailed down his throat and chest. All Type knows is that it feels good, so incredibly good.

“Wha-huh NO! uh N-no don’t stop” Type stutters as he comes back to his senses. Looking back at the man stood before him, so close he can only make out his face within the darkness of the room. He’s definitely new in town because there’s no way Type wouldn’t have noticed such a handsome face before now. Type can’t help but fixate on the man’s lips and the way he smirks as if he knows he has Type trapped in his lust once again, and all Type wants to do is taste them. As if reading his mind, the handsome stranger just chuckles and leans in and captures Type in a heated kiss, sucking Type’s tongue into his own mouth. Bringing his hands up to fist the slightly shorter man’s hair Type can’t help but moan into the kiss, he can taste the familiar essence of wine mixed in with something new, something Type’s never experienced before but he’s certain it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. Finding it unfair that type’s the only one without a shirt he quickly works upon loosening the stranger’s vest and flinging it along with his undershirt across the room, breaking the kiss for only a moment before diving back into the other’s lips.

“You’re so fucking hot” The stranger pants as they break apart to catch their breath. The words go straight to Type’s cock and he can’t help but buck forward craving some kind of friction. As their bulges connect Type can feel the other is just as aroused as him and it sends him over the edge, what was once a small moment of calm as their panting fills room turns back into frenzied kissing as both grab at any part of the other they can. Type lets out an unexpected gasp as he’s suddenly hoisted up into the stranger’s arms, the feel of the strong muscles holding him as the man mouths and sucks into his neck has type groaning out. Type’s no stranger to lust and sex, having come to terms with his sexuality many years ago he’s had a number of partners, all of whom he knew wouldn’t expose him or his preference for men. Noh the stable boy was his first, he was older and more experienced, and Type had had an unrequited crush on him for years, that was until the night of Types 14th birthday at least. Noh wasn’t gentle nor kind, but Type didn’t mind, he was blinded by his own foolish infatuation and would take whatever Noh was willing to give him. Until it all suddenly ended when Noh married a nice farmer’s daughter not even half a year later. He never offered Type any kind of solace or explanation and Type never asked. Since then Type has had multiple partners, none of any real substance, but enough for him to realise just how good sex could be and how good he was at it. So, he’s no stranger to this feeling of lust but for some reason what he was feeling right now with this perfect stranger eclipsed anything he’d ever felt before. Maybe it’s the alcohol in his system or the dread of what the morning will bring but Type can’t find it in himself to hold back as every inch of his skin feels aflame with desire, he wants this man more than he’s ever wanted anyone else. Spending his last night in Thule underneath a man who he knows nothing about and definitely shouldn’t trust seems just about perfect. Consequences be damned. “Do you plan on taking this to the bed or are you going to fuck me against the door? Either way you better start unlacing your breeches right fucking now.” Type feels his dick twitch in response to the deep growl the stranger lets out as an answer. Moments later Type finds himself falling onto the bed finally able to view the stranger in his entirety. He can finally see the firm broad shoulders he had been gripping just moments ago, he can see the outline of defined abs above a soft snail trail that leads to a set of strong large hands slowly untying the lace of his navy breeches. Type knows the man is taunting him, going especially slow unlacing them row by row, but he can’t bring himself to care. In fact, he’s enjoying the time it allows him to just stare at the man before him, it has type suddenly wishing they’d taken the time to light some more candles just so he could see the man in full detail. 

“Enjoying the view?” The man smirks as his sultry eyes twinkle down at Type.

Lost in the sudden memory of how that smart mouth had felt tracing down his neck Type almost forgets to reply as he finally sits up moving towards the man whose touch his body is already desperately missing. “I’d enjoy it a lot more if you didn’t have these on” He finally retorts as he goes to tug down the other’s breeches. The sight that greets him is better than he could have ever imagined. Type should have known this perfect man would have the perfect cock, bouncing hard in front of his face Type can’t stop himself licking the stripe of precum escaping from its tip. He’s rewarded with a harsh hiss that escapes the stranger’s mouth from above. Facing up, Type makes eye contact as he sucks in the head of his girthy cock until he’s slowly lowered down as far as his throat will allow without gagging. Using his hand to grip the base Type stars bobbing up and down allowing for a little more of the thick cock each time.  
“Fuck” The man above him moans out as Type is finally able to swallow all of him. The feeling of the man’s fingers gripping his hair, guiding Type’s mouth up and down until his cock is finally thrusting into the back of his throat every time has Type’s eyes watering and dick twitching strained within his breeches. 

“I’m close” Type can feel it before the man even mentions it. He can feel the man’s cock twitch as he sucks him in even faster, a series of hums is his only response to the man’s repetitive streams of curses and moans. Type takes each rough thrust eagerly as the man’s hips stutter with his completion. Warm salty liquid fills his mouth as he swallows each wave of the others orgasm and eventually the harsh grip on Type’s hair is replaced by soft stroking. Looking up Type can’t stop the gasp he lets out at how stunning the man above him looks in this moment. Seeing the sheen of sweat making his firm chest glisten with each deep breath and the way he’s biting his lip whilst staring down at Type with a look of pure unadulterated desire.

Suddenly, it’s Type’s own swollen lips the man is leaning down to capture, lightly nibbling at until he’s granted full access. Swiping his tongue in, Type knows the man can taste himself on Type’s tongue. The taste of his own cum mixed with the taste of Type has the man above him moaning and impatiently pushing Type so he’s laying down. Making quick work of Type’s breeches he’s between Type’s legs returning the favour in a matter of a few hurried seconds. Grunting as soon as his cock is engulfed within the dishevelled man’s mouth it doesn’t take Type long to feel the familiar edge start to overwhelm him. The blowjob is sloppy and unhinged as desire tackles them both no kind of rhythm can be kept. It doesn’t take long for Type to be moaning far too loudly considering where they are and the fact the palace servants will be beginning their day anytime now, based on the brightening sky outside. The moans only seem to egg the stranger on even more and within a few minutes Type’s hips are stuttering as he releases into the very eager mouth swallowing around him. With a shuddering breathe and loud pop as the other releases him the handsome man is falling to lay beside him, neither speak as they lay just trying to catch their breath again. 

Type lays basking in the post orgasm glow as the world around slowly comes back into focus, he has no idea what time it is but he can hear the birds chirping and the can tell by the orange glow within the room that the sun is minutes away from rising. He knows he’ll have to get up soon and go find Kohm for a final goodbye before he finally has to go to with his mother and leave the city he calls home. But for now, he allows himself to bask in the comfort of the moment almost entirely forgetting that a handsome stranger is lying beside him until he hears an awkward cough.

“So… uh… My names Tharn by the way, you are?” Type can’t help but chuckle at the accented Eìkrì, the official language of the southern continent and dialect of Thule. Type can tell instantly by the man’s, no Tharn’s, accent that he’s from the north. It has the same distinct tone as Type’s Mother’s, though much stronger from obviously never having lived elsewhere.

“Ha, well Tharn, I’m Type. Nice to meet you” Type responds in near perfect Flalki, the northern dialect spoken within the capital city of Pohoja. Conveniently Flalki is spoken all throughout the northern continent with few differences within the surrounding dialects. Type actually speaks with an accented version of Flalki resembling that from the town his mother grew up in more than the more formal official version spoken within the capital. His mother continued to use her native tongue all throughout Type’s childhood never wanting to forget her northern roots and made specific emphasis to teach Type. Making him near fluent in the language. That being said, besides his mother Type’s never spoken to anyone actually from the north in Flalki before. All of his tutors during school were southern born and by the time he was 12 his ability was already far greater than what they were teaching him thanks to his mother’s own efforts.  
“Wait what… you can speak Flalki?! How can you talk so well!?” Tharn exclaims as he sits up to stare down at Type, seemingly shocked to find out Type knows the northern tongue.

Once again distracted by Tharn’s handsome face staring down at him in astonished amusement Type can only stutter out his response. “Uhhh yea? I mean we learn the northern language in school, so I-uh guess everyone knows it.” Type knows his ability is far greater than that of most Thule citizens thanks to his mother, he’s just not sure of how well Tharn would accept his heritage. He knows that most people his age wouldn’t outwardly disagree with inter-continental marriage anymore, especially not with the engagement of Prince Thorn and Princess Kina, but most would still find it a little weird. Usually he wouldn’t care what others thought of him, Type was proud of his parents and everything they went through for the sake of their love but the idea of Tharn looking at him differently just wasn’t something he was willing to risk. Type has no idea why, Tharn was just another one night stand so why should it matter what he thinks of Type or his parents.  
“What no way! I’ve spoken to so many people since arriving into the city and none of them are as good as you. You sound almost native if not for your accent!” Tharn lays back down moving in closer to lean upon Type’s shoulder, still staring from below his lashes.

“Ha-uhhh I just studied hard an—Hey wait! What accent? I don’t have an accent! My moth-“ Realising his mistake and almost exposing himself Type quickly corrects himself. “My – uh my tutors all said my accent is almost natural!”

“Of course you have an accent!” Tharn replies with a roll of his eyes and chuckle. “Don’t worry though, you accent is sexy. People in Pohoja go crazy for southern accents… the way the letters roll off your tongue, uuuuh it just makes everything sound so … hmmm… more appealing?” 

The look Tharn was giving him as he described the effect of his so-called accent sent shivers down his body, his cock instantly twitching in response. Fuck. Type definitely doesn’t have time for another round, the room being almost fully lit tells him all he needs to know about how majorly late he’s going to be by the time he reaches home. His mother will kill him if he causes the ship to set off late. It’s with the memory of his mother’s stern glare whenever he does anything wrong that Type jumps out of the bed tripping to shove his clothes back on that had been tossed around the room. The sudden action startles Tharn whose head was now falling onto the flat mattress after the loss of Type’s sharp shoulder.

“Uhh sorry, I’ve got to get going… This was great, really great actually, but I’m going to be late and If I’m late my mother will kill me. So, I’ve-uh gatta go because I don’t really want to die this young… and um- yea.” Type has no idea why he’s become such a bumbling fool since meeting Tharn. Ask anyone around the palace and they probably describe him as indifferent, cold or intimidating. Many would call him handsome, but most would find his constant scowl and up-tight demeanour to be too off-putting to ever want to go any further with than just stealing secret glances Type knows they take. But a bumbling embarrassing fool… No one would ever describe him as this. If Kohm could see him now he’d be on the floor laughing at how weird his friend is acting. Pushing aside his embarrassment Type almost has his breeches fully on and is grabbing the first shirt he can find from the floor whilst he dashes towards the door.

“Hey -a wait! Wait! When can I see you again Type?” Tharn’s sat up now, with a look on his face that has Type feeling a certain way he definitely refuses to acknowledge right now.

“Uhhh- Probably never? I’m leaving Thule today and I don’t know when I’ll be back. It was nice meeting you Tharn but this was just a one night thing.” Pausing at the door the well-practised words of come bluntly out, Type can’t help the feeling of regret that bubbles up through his throat as they do though. Of course, fate would have him find this God like man just when he’s about to leave and never be able to see or fuck him again. Type can’t tell if the look of regret he sees in Tharn’s eyes is a mirror of his own or if this stranger feels just as remorseful with how short their time together could be.

Without giving Tharn a chance to respond Type quickly leaves the room before the lure of the other man can draw him back into the bed and back into a world where Type doesn’t have a ship to catch to sail away to his new, far colder life. It’s in the dim light of the hallway Type is trying his best to sneak out unnoticed as he shoves his boots and shirt back on. There’s one small issue though, Type realises the shirt is much larger than what he’s used to puffing out around his shoulders and falling down to below the curve of his ass. He instantly realises that this is not his shirt, it must be Tharns. Type knew the other was bigger than him, a feat which Type didn’t usually come across what with him being over 6 ft and having a well-defined body after years of rigorous training. But Tharn’s bulging muscles and broad shoulders make even Type look small in comparison, the difference in shirt sizes emphasises this even more. Type stood there for a while just breathing in scent that was infused within the cotton from repeated wear, allowing himself just a moment to remember the night, remember the glint of Tharn’s eyes as he looked down at him whilst thrusting into Type’s mouth. The memory makes Type’s dick twitch once again and he has to quickly shake himself out of it before his breeches become too tight. Taking in a final sniff Type smiles to himself, perhaps he can allow himself this one reminder of Tharn, of the God like stranger who managed to stir feelings within himself after only a few hours that no one else has been able to do in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter was just sort of trying to set everything up and introduce all of the different aspects within the story so if it seems a little busy/ constantly stating new info thats why. As the story develops the world should piece together more and more and actually get interesting.
> 
> Hopefully I'll be able to update again next week, so see you all then.
> 
> Feedback is always welcome :)


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